Stuck in a Box
by writergirl75
Summary: Oliver and Felicity wake up in a windowless room with no memory of how they got there. As they try to figure out what happened, and how to deal with their situation, Digg's on a mission to find his friends. Multi-chapter
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first posted fan-fiction story, so I'm a bit nervous. In my head this story takes place between episodes 2x06 and 2x08, though it could really fall anywhere after 2x02**. Update: So (newbie alert) this is the first of several chapters.

Stuck in a Box – Chapter One

**Oliver**

His head hurt and his mouth felt fuzzy. He could smell something pleasant, sweet and clean, and as he struggled to pull himself into consciousness his arm moved across something warm and soft. Not something – someone.

Waking up next to an unknown woman while nursing a hangover wasn't exactly a new experience for Oliver Queen, but it was something that hadn't happened in a long time. Forcing his eyes open he winced at the light, his eyelids dry and sticky. He blinked and tried again, saw a messy but still unmistakably familiar, blond ponytail and a half circle of pale neck and shoulders above the round collar of a red dress. He was staring at the back of Felicity's head; his arm around her waist.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice scratching in his throat. There were a lot of things a guy might forget, but he was pretty sure climbing into bed with Felicity – even fully clothed – would have been something he remembered. He pulled back and forced himself into a sitting position. The room spun around him.

Not drunk – drugged, he realized, as the world settled back into place to reveal a long narrow cinderblock room with a high ceiling. A bank of fluorescents running down the middle of that ceiling cast the painfully bright light.

Worried, he turned back to Felicity and shook her. When there was no response, he pulled her closer to him, rolling her onto her back. Her glasses were askew, one lens cracked, and there was a bruise forming on her cheekbone. He felt a flash of anger; somebody would pay for that. His eyes searched over the rest of her, coming quickly back to her face when he realized just how much of her impressive legs were currently on display. He didn't see any other injuries and her breathing was steady. If they'd been given the same dose of the drug, it made sense she'd still be out. He brought a hand to her face, lightly tracing the bruise on her cheek, and then forced himself to his feet to look around.

Straight across from the bed was a wide metal door with no handle, with a metal panel next to it about halfway down the wall. To his left down the long room was a smaller door with a handle. Walking carefully he went toward it and opened it, revealing sink and toilet. Turning the other way he saw mostly empty industrial shelving bolted to the wall. On a single shelf sat bottles of water, boxes of protein bars, and a pile of folded fabric. There was also an envelope taped there, and even from across the room he could see his name typed on the outside.

Ignoring the dizziness, he walked over and ripped the envelope off of the shelves. Inside was a single sheet of white paper. Halfway down, typed, it said:

JUST 96 HOURS OF YOUR TIME, MR. QUEEN. THAT'S ALL WE NEED. ENJOY THE ACCOMADATIONS.

He wadded the paper into his fist. Letting out a long breath, he looked at the pile of fabric, a set of men's sweats, in exactly his size; just men's though. A suspicion formed in the back of his brain. There were four boxes of peanut-butter protein bars, 24 bottles of water, one small bed; exactly what you would leave one person to survive easily for four days. Swearing under his breath he went back and sank onto the edge of the bed. He was pretty sure they hadn't meant to take Felicity. So what had happened?

He wished she would open her eyes. With that bruise it was possible she'd hit her head and was more injured than he knew. "Felicity," he said, his throat scratching against the word. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook it gently.

"Felicity?" Still no response. What if she didn't wake up?

**John**

He stepped off of the executive elevator at Queen Consolidated with a bag of Chinese food under one arm. Oliver had sent him to quietly follow up a lead on the identity of the new leader of the Triad. Of course, it involved Jade Dragon restaurant and Felicity had added a lunch order to Digg's errands.

Oliver had rolled his eyes, but Digg didn't mind. Honestly, the girl didn't ask for much.

Her desk was empty as he approached, setting the bag down on the sleek glass surface. A quick look told him Oliver's office was empty as well. He frowned and reached across the desk to tap the mouse. Oliver's schedule usually came up as the default display on the monitor, often to cover up whatever Felicity was actually working on. The calendar told him that Oliver had a meeting in his office in five minutes.

Digg reached into his pocket for his phone and texted Felicity. "Lunch is here. Where are you?"

He waited for a reply, and when it still hadn't come a few minutes later he frowned. He supposed they could have been pulled into some meeting, but it was still unlike her not to respond. The three of them had grown pretty careful about keeping tabs on each other.

Feeling the first real hint of worry he sent a text to Oliver. "Everything okay?" Again, no response. He looked at Felicity's desk, but everything thing seemed fine. Pushing through the glass door into Oliver's office he looked around. Oliver's chair was pushed clear back against the wall and slightly at an angle, which was odd, but not enough to justify the growing sense in Digg's gut that something was wrong.

He scanned the rest of the office, and then saw it – something sticking out from beneath one of the couches. Without thinking he reached down and grabbed it. A strappy black high heel – one of Felicity's.

Digg turned and raced for the phone on Oliver's desk, punching in the number for security. "I need someone to meet me in the surveillance office, now."

Two minutes later, he demanded to see the footage from Oliver's office. The guard on duty looked skeptical. "So you found a woman's high heel in Mr. Queen's office?" The man tilted his head. "From what I've heard that doesn't sound so unusual for him. Are you sure there's something wrong?"

Digg considered the possibility for about three seconds. Oliver and Felicity had seemed a bit more intense around each other lately, and Oliver had been staring at the girl more than usual, but he still couldn't quite ….

"I've got the footage, what time do you need?" the guard asked.

"Eleven-thirty," Digg said, hoping he wasn't about to spy on two of his best friends making out.

The guard fast forwarded to show Oliver telling Digg good bye at 11:35. For the next five minutes nothing happened and Digg was just about to ask the guard to forward the tape when Felicity entered the frame. She placed a folder on Oliver's desk and the two of them started talking. Then the screen went fuzzy and when the image came back the time stamp indicated fifteen minutes had passed. There was no one in the picture.

"What was that?" Digg demanded.

The guard's eyes went wide. "Someone must have shut down the system for a few minutes."

Digg's heart sank. "Who could do that?"

The guard shook his head. "Only you, Mr. Collister, or Mr. Queen himself," the guard said.

"We have access to the footage, but to shut off a camera you'd have to get into main security."

Digg had vetted Collister, their head of security, himself. "No one else?"

The guard shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Digg rubbed his forehead. One thing was clear, something had happened to Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for all of the encouragement! It made me eager to update, so I appreciate it. **

Stuck in a Box – Chapter Two

**Felicity**

"Felicity."

She heard the voice from far away. Echoing like boulders in her tired head. Oliver.

"Felicity?"

She heard the worry in his voice. Something rough scratched her bare legs as she struggled to open her eyes. Oliver's concerned face hovered over her. "There you are," he said, his voice gentle. His blue eyes were filled with worry but she saw an echo of a smile.

She blinked. She was lying on a bed; the blanket was what had felt uncomfortable. "Oliver?"

"Can you sit up?" he asked. His arm came around her to help. She put a hand to her head, it really did hurt.

"You've been drugged," he said, his voice low and soft. "It should start wearing off soon."

One of the lenses on her glasses was cracked, but she could see they were in a cement room. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Good question," Oliver said, with a grim look on his face. He handed her a piece of paper. "This was in an envelope with my name on it."

She read the note and felt a flutter of panic. "Four days," Felicity said, doing the math in her head. "We're going to be here for four days?"

"Not if I can help it," Oliver said. He stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from a shelf nearby. "Here, it will help with the after effects. Then I need your help."

"To do what?" she asked.

He nodded toward a vent high on the wall above a big door that had no handle. "I'd like to see what's through there."

The vent was ten inches by five inches. "Unless you have contortionist skills I don't know about, and I do realize that's a possibility, I don't think that's going to help."

He gave her his hard, ice-cold, stare. She was certain that stare scared the crap out of most people, but she wasn't most people.

"Fine, fine," she said. She got it – he needed something to do. She took the bottle from him and started to drink, watching him pace along the long edge of the room. "Can you stop that? You're making me dizzy."

He gave her another hard look but moved to the opposite wall from her and slid down to the floor, elbows on his knees. She realized he was in a white dress shirt; sleeves rolled up, and suit slacks. His jacket and tie over the edge of the bed.

She looked down to see what she was wearing and felt a flood of embarrassment, quickly pulling her skirt down. "Sorry about that," she mumbled.

To her surprise that got half a grin out of him, and his eyes lingered on her legs for just a second before coming back to her face. "You've got nothing to apologize for."

That almost sounded like flirting. She must be more out of it than she thought. Shaking her head to clear it, she returned to her original thought. The dress she wore, sleeveless, dark red, with a flowy knee-length skirt, was a dress for work. Which didn't quite make sense, since the last recollection she had was of leaving their secret basement the night before.

"Oliver?" she said nervously.

He frowned. "Yeah?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

He paused for a second; the frown turned into a scowl. "I was changing out of my…" he stopped and glanced around them. "Out of another suit," he finished, giving her a pointed look to tell her what he had really meant.

Until that moment Felicity hadn't considered the fact that they could be under surveillance.

"Last night?" she asked, to clarify.

He nodded. "At Verdant." 

"So whatever they've done it's affected our memory," she said.

He closed his eyes. "We're both dressed for work. So we've lost at least six hours, maybe more."

She tried to stand up and wobbled. Oliver was on his feet and at her side in a heartbeat. "Careful," he said, grabbing her elbow.

"I didn't realize I was missing a shoe. I'm okay." She slid her foot out of the strap of her remaining high heel. It made her even shorter than usual next to him. He was still holding her arm and he was incredibly close, looking down at her with those eyes of his. Seriously the eyes were worse than the abs. She felt a babble coming on and shook her head. "So the vent?" It came out as a bit of a squeak.

"Right," he said, stepping back. "The vent."

**John**

It was clear that whoever infiltrated Queen Consolidated's security had known exactly what they were doing. The card that had shown up as opening the door of the security system room was Oliver's. A review of the security logs revealed it to be a corrupt copy that had opened the door and left a flag in the system. It would have been caught in an evening review of the logs. Digg wished he could grill Oliver about how someone could have gotten ahold of his security pass. Of course what he really wanted was any conversation with Oliver.

Digg was at the end of his particular brand of expertise. He needed to look to see if there were any cameras from the street that might have seen anything. If Felicity were here…he tried to cut off the thought, as that thought lead to others that were seriously unpleasant. If one of them had been missing that would have been bad enough. With both of them gone Digg felt an extra sense of panic. Felicity could be used as leverage against Oliver, and Digg was pretty sure Oliver would do just about anything to prevent Felicity from being hurt.

He needed help. An ordinary call to the cops was the logical next step, but not knowing if the kidnapping was Arrow related, he was hesitant. Then he smiled to himself. Just because Oliver was gone, that didn't mean that the Arrow couldn't call in a favor.

Excusing himself from the security office, Digg walked to a quiet spot in the corridor. He pulled out his phone and with a security code and a few swipes he was able to put it into the "ghost" mode Felicity had programmed for him. Not only would his phone be untraceable, but with another push of a button Digg could disguise his voice.

"Hello," came the voice of Officer Quentin Lance.

"Hello, Officer Lance. I need your help," Digg said.

"Oh yeah?" the cop didn't sound openly hostile, just irritated.

"Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak have disappeared," Digg said, trying to imagine what his voice might sound like to Lance.

"How long?" Lance asked.

"Three hours," Digg said.

"Three hours? They could have gone to lunch," Lance said, sounding more irritated now.

"Someone tampered with the security system at Queen Consolidated and erased surveillance footage of Queen's office and Miss Smoak's shoe was found there as well. I don't like it," Digg said, trying to sound stern and cranky.

"You know for a smart girl she sure has stupid taste in men. Her boss know she works for you?" Lance asked.

In spite of the scenario Digg couldn't help but crack a smile. "I'd rather she didn't work for him. We both know his reputation. But she makes her own choices." Always fun to throw a little distance between the Arrow and Oliver Queen.

"Fine, so what's Queen done that might have pissed someone off?" Lance asked.

"We don't know that he was the target," Digg said. He had to drop his voice even lower as a young secretary walked by him in the corridor.

"You think someone might have taken her to get to you?" Lance asked, his voice sounding truly concerned for the first time. As Digg had suspected, Lance clearly had a level of respect for their blond IT girl.

Digg sighed, wondering how that would translate through the voice scrambling software. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Alright," Lance said. "What do you need?"

"I need someone to look through any camera footage of the streets around Queen Consolidated and let me know if you find anything suspicious," Digg said.

"I can do that," Lance said. "How do I contact you?"

"I'll contact you," Digg said, hanging up the phone. He took a deep breath. He'd be a hell of a lot happier when Oliver could go back to being the Arrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter's a little shorter...but I think it's also more fun :-) Thanks again for all of the nice comments.**

Stuck in a Box – Chapter Three

**Oliver**

"So now what?" Felicity said.

She was on his shoulders and had just used one of her fingernails to undo the screws and remove the vent cover, which then slipped out of her hands and nearly hit him in the head. "Sorry!"

Oliver ruthlessly pulled his brain away from the feeling of Felicity's legs under his hands and focused it on the task in front of them. "What do you see?"

"A hole in the wall," Felicity replied, irritation in her voice. "What did you hope I would see?"

"How big is the space behind the vent?" he asked.

"Hang on," she said. She pushed off his shoulders trying to gain a few more inches of height. She reached inside the opening and then, stretching again, teetered off balance.

Oliver felt bare skin graze the side of his face, and swore, grabbing her more tightly to keep her from falling. "Felicity!" he growled.

"This was your idea, remember?" she said. She sounded as flustered as he felt. "The opening's only slightly bigger than the vent itself."

"Fine," he snapped. "Get down."

He knelt down and then reached up to help her off of his shoulders. When he looked up at her he saw that her face was flushed and upset. "You okay?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, great," her voice was smaller than usual. "Just painfully aware of how useless I am in a situation like this."

That threw him. Maybe it was egotistical but he had assumed her agitation had come from proximity to him, not from actually being upset. "What?"

"I don't think Digg would have nearly brained you with the vent cover," Felicity said, "And if you'd been with him instead of me you probably wouldn't have gotten taken in the first place."

"Maybe," Oliver said. "But you were more fun to have on my shoulders." Where the hell had that come from? He wondered if the drugs were still interfering with his brain. It was one thing to think something like that, but he shouldn't say it. Still, as he watched a pleased look cross her features, he couldn't quite regret it.

He forced himself to look away, staring at the opening in the wall. "It was a long shot. This place was carefully prepared, I can't imagine whoever did it would have overlooked such an obvious escape route."

"Yeah," Felicity said. "Don't get me wrong, I don't know much about prisons but this seems a little well…nice."

Oliver nodded. "Too nice. I'm guessing it's actually a panic room. That right there," he said pointing to the metal panel next to the door. "Should probably be the controls, but someone's had them removed."

"Any way to get the panel off?" Felicity said sounding excited. "If the wiring is still there…"

He shook his head. "First thing I tried. It's been welded down."

"So what do we do now?" she asked, looking up at him. He could tell she was trying to sound nonchalant, but he could hear the edge of uneasiness in her tone. As much as he wanted to give her a positive answer, life had taught him that sometimes, no matter what you did, you were still helpless.

"Now, we wait."

**John**

He gave Lance two hours before calling back. In that time, he'd poured through about 12 cameras worth of footage from the Queen Consolidated building from 11:00 to 1:00. It was clear that the security cameras for the entire building, and not just the one's from Oliver's office, had been shut down for about fifteen minutes. Whomever had taken Oliver and Felicity had known the building well. There was no doubt in Digg's mind that it was an inside job.

When Lance answered, John could hear the excitement in his voice. "I think I might have found something for you."

"What?" Digg, still in the voice of the Arrow, asked.

"A laundry van pulled into the back alley of Queen Consolidated at 11:29. From a bank camera across the street I have what looks like a large laundry cart being pushed into the back of it at 11:50." Lance said. "It strikes me as odd that an office building would need laundry service."

"It certainly does," Digg said. "Do you have a plate number?"

"No, the image quality was too weak, but there's a name on the side of the van. Altus Laundry Services, it seems to be a legit business, but I can follow up if you want," Lance said.

"I can take it from here," Digg said, adding just an edge of threat to his voice.

"Try not to kill anyone, alright?" Lance said, and hung up the phone.

"I'll do my best," Digg said into the emptiness.

In fifteen minutes Digg was standing in the lobby of Altus Laundry Services, watching as a grey-haired woman in her sixties discovered that one of the family's trucks had been stolen. Surprise, surprise.

"Have you hired anyone new lately?" Digg asked.

The lady's eyes widened. "Andy, last week. He didn't come in today."

"Do you have any information on him? Work ID, home address, anything?"

Fifteen minutes later Digg was out the door with an address, a photograph, and a plate number.


	4. Chapter 4

Stuck in a Box – Chapter Four

**Felicity**

There weren't many things that Felicity could do better than Oliver Queen; computers, research, dressing in color, and smiling had pretty much been her list until now. Today, however, she had something new to add – waiting. Maybe he'd just used up all his patience on that island.

They'd spent several minutes comparing their last memories in detail, hoping to uncover some kind of helpful information. They didn't. And so he paced, looking more and more stern with every pass. After a while Felicity tried to distract him by rehashing what they'd discovered in their Triad investigation, but they were forced to use half-coded language to the point that they confused even themselves.

"On the bright side," she said, "if anyone was listening in they won't understand what you just said, because I didn't even understand it."

He'd let out an exasperated sigh and started the pacing again. Finally, he reached up and started undoing the buttons on his shirt. He had a t-shirt on underneath and Felicity assumed he was just trying to be more comfortable until he got down and started doing one armed push-ups.

"Seriously? It's not that I don't appreciate the entertainment, but you're working out now?" she asked.

He had already reached fifteen. "What else is there to do?"

He had a point and really the view was nothing to sneeze at. She put a hand over her stomach as it gave a loud grumble. "Um, is that food over there?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, not pausing.

"Do you mind if I eat something?" she asked.

"Go ahead." He wasn't even out of breath yet. Show off.

She walked around him carefully reaching the shelves. Protein bars, exciting. The first box was peanut butter, those would have to be Oliver's. When she looked at the front of the next box she felt a sinking sensation that was confirmed by reading the labels on the third and fourth boxes. "Crap."

The push-ups stopped. "What?"

"I can't eat these," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm.

He bounced up to his feet and walked toward her. "What do you mean?"

"They're all the same kind, and I'm allergic to nuts," she said.

"How allergic?" he said, his eyebrows drawing together.

"Throat-closing-can't-breathe allergic," she said.

The sudden anxiety in his face did not help with the keeping calm. He looked down at the floor. "I didn't know that."

"Neither, apparently, did our friendly kidnappers," Felicity said. She took a deep breath, "No big deal, right? Human body can go weeks without food."

Oliver looked up at her with a haunted expression in his eyes. "Yeah, but after a couple of days…things like your concentration and mood will start to slip."

From the look on his face Felicity had no doubt that he was speaking from experience. She had a feeling he'd gone a lot longer than a couple of days when he was on Lian Yu.

She smiled. "Well, then, the good news is that one of us will still be at their best."

He shook his head, his eyes locking with hers. "No way. If you can't eat, I can't eat."

Felicity felt her heart do an odd little leap. Still, she wasn't about to let him make some ridiculous sacrifice for her sake. "You want to be able to protect…" she hesitated, swallowed and then plunged forward, "Protect me, right?"

He reached out and touched her arm. "Yeah," the word came out uncertain, as if he already knew where she was going. She hadn't even realized how cold she had been until his warm fingers settled on her skin.

"And you can do that better with full concentration?" she said, annoyed that her voice came out a little strangled.

He tilted his head and glared. "Yes."

She handed him a box. "Then it's settled. You have to eat."

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes and sighing. The he looked back at her with his no nonsense expression. "But not right now."

"You promise?" she said, grabbing his wrist as he pulled away.

His eyes moved to her hand and then came back to her face, the tiniest hint of a smile in his eyes. "I promise."

"Good," she said, smiling. "You can go back to your push-ups now."

He turned away moving back toward the open spot on the floor. "Put my jacket on," he ordered grumpily. "You're freezing."

She almost pointed out that there was a perfectly good sweatshirt sitting right there on the shelf, but luckily stopped herself in time. She had a feeling it was his way, however small, of making up for what she couldn't have. Picking the jacket up, she sat down on the bed, putting her arms through the sleeves and tucking her legs underneath her. As the smell of him settled around her and she watched him resume the intense exercise, she felt a wave of contentment at odds with their situation. Searching for something to keep her brain occupied she said. "Why four days?"

"What?" Oliver grunted.

"The note said they needed four days. That's pretty specific," she pointed out.

He paused, obviously considering her words. "Yeah, it is."

"So what were you planning to do on Friday?" she asked.

He switched arms and did another twenty push-ups before answering. "Go to the shareholders meeting."

Felicity grit her teeth. "I wouldn't put this past Isabel. She seems like kind of a …" Felicity paused, searching for a word that didn't offend her feminist sensibilities. "Kind of determined to get her way."

Oliver looked up at her, giving her the blank expression that she hated. "You think Isabel Rochev had two people drugged and kidnapped so she could run a shareholder's meeting?"

That did sound a little over the top, Felicity admitted to herself. She let out an exasperated huff. "I don't know. You're the one who brought up the meeting. I was just asking what you were doing Friday, which by the way, we're assuming its Tuesday. For all we know we could have been here a lot longer than that before we woke up, though I doubt…"

"Felicity," Oliver said, calmly.

She snapped her mouth shut. "Sorry."

He rolled into a sitting position. "This might have nothing to do with Queen Consolidated," he said gravely. "This could be about keeping me away from my…extracurricular activities."

The possibility had been floating around the back of her mind, but she hadn't wanted to say it. "Which would mean they know that you…" This whole talking without talking thing was really annoying.

But Oliver had understood her and gave her a worried nod.

The thought that someone knew that Oliver was the Arrow sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

**John**

The address was useless, of course, but Digg had sent the picture and van license plate to the former Detective Lance and had received back a rap sheet and the promise of an APB on the van.

"Don't need to worry about staying under the radar," Lance told him. "The head of security at Queen Consolidated called this in about an hour ago." 

Digg knew Collister had done the right thing, but it still made him uneasy to have too many people involved. He hoped he could find Oliver and Felicity on his own, and quickly.

The rap sheet was illuminating. The van thief had a list of arrests for minor crimes; breaking and entering and possession. What was more interesting was that "Andy" was actually Andrev Gagolin. No overt ties to the Bratva, but it was entirely possible Oliver's mob buddies had discovered he wasn't quite the badass he made out to be and had decided…that wasn't a pleasant thought, but at least it gave Digg somewhere to go.

Something else about the Russian connection teased at the back of Digg's mind, but he couldn't quite figure out why. The most important thing from the rap sheet was that Gagolin had been picked up three separate times for brawling at the same bar in the Glades. If Digg was lucky the man would be thirsty after a day of attacking billionaires.


	5. Chapter 5

Stuck in a Box – Chapter Five

**Oliver **

He'd done push-ups and crunches until his muscles had started to go numb, and then a couple of drills that were entirely unsatisfying since there was nothing to actually hit. He realized that Felicity had been quiet for a while and turned to see that she'd dozed off, her head at an awkward angle.

Olive himself felt fatigue settling in. Without windows it was hard to tell, but he suspected it was getting late, and that fact, combined with the drugs and stress, was bound to take its toll on their energy levels.

He walked toward her, stopping at the edge of the bed. "Felicity," he said.

She jumped, startled, and hit her head on the wall behind her. "Oww," she said, rubbing the back of her head. Looking up at him she said, "Did you think of something else?"

He shook his head. "You should lie down, get some sleep."

She yawned. "What about you?"

It was a good question. He could tell his senses were getting a little dull at the edges, but the thought of someone coming into the room while he was asleep was unpleasant. Besides, there was no way they could both sleep on that narrow bed _without_ touching each other.

"You go ahead. We can take turns," he forced his voice to sound even, friendly.

He didn't know if it was common sense or exhaustion that made her agree so easily. He knew he should look at something else, but couldn't help but watch as she reached up and freed her hair from the ponytail, tucking the band around her slim wrist. Her hair should have looked like a disaster – it didn't. She tried to move and let out a noise of exasperation. "Yeah, my legs are already asleep."

He held out his hand. "Here."

She grabbed his hand and he pulled her away from the wall to stand next to him. It shouldn't have felt different from helping Digg up off of the sparring mat, but it absolutely did. Hair down, sleepy eyed, and wrapped in his jacket – except for the bruise and the cracked glasses she looked like a girl coming home from a very good date. He dropped her hand and stepped back. "Get some rest," he said, pasting a generic smile on his face.

She nodded and took off her glasses, handing them to him. "Put these on the shelf for me?"

"Sure," he said, relieved to have an excuse to turn away. He took his time, walking slowly to the shelves, carefully folding the glasses and setting them down. He heard, rather than saw her settle into the bed. His hands curled into fists.

"Goodnight Oliver," she said, her voice already a little dreamy.

He turned and leaned back against the shelf crossing his arms over his chest. Staring at her peaceful face he whispered, "Goodnight Felicity."

He stayed that way, watching her sleep until his muscles protested the lack of movement. He ran a hand across his tired eyes and turned back to the table. She'd been right about the food, and this seemed like the most humane time to take care of that. He quickly ate one of the energy bars, flushed the wrapper, and washed his hands, not wanting it to smell like food. Four days would start to be really uncomfortable for her, and he hated the thought of it – but if their captors had meant what they had written, she would be okay. If they didn't mean it – he cut off the thought. There was no point in going there.

He went back to pacing, trying to stay awake and started translating nursery rhymes into Mandarin and Russian just to keep his brain active. When he fell asleep while walking and nearly hit the wall, he knew he'd underestimated his own fatigue. It had been less than an hour since Felicity had gone to sleep.

Annoyed with himself, he nonetheless moved toward Felicity and sat down on the floor next to the bed, his shoulders against the frame and his head leaning against the side of the mattress. At least no one could get to her without going through him first.

Sometime later he started awake when a hand hit his shoulder. Felicity had rolled toward him in the night, her arm trailing off the edge of the bed. Too tired to fight the impulse, he leaned his head against her and went back to sleep.

**John**

Digg had almost given up hope when Gagolin showed up in the street in front of the Brickwell Tavern at 11:30 pm. Luckily, there weren't many people out in The Glades this time of night, and no one noticed when Digg pulled out his gun and forced the skinny, oily faced man into a darkened doorway. Gagolin tried to get to his own gun but Digg swatted it away without effort. Not exactly a trained fighter, this one.

"Where is Oliver Queen?" he demanded.

Gagolin stuttered for a moment and then, his voice heavy with an accent said. "I do not know."

"You stole the van they were abducted in and you expect me to believe that?" Digg said.

Gagolin's eyes widened, verifying what Digg had suspected but not actually known. "I only drive. I didn't know…"

Digg moved the gun to press it against the man's forehead. "You're lying to me. Not a healthy move right now."

Gagolin put up his hands. "Okay, okay. I know where they are, but I don't have the code to the door." He got a bit of a cocky grin. "So unless you have explosives on hand – it won't matter."

"As it happens, I do," Digg said. He punched the guy across the face and sighed when the man crumbled to the ground. With a resigned eye roll, Digg threw the skinny thug over his shoulder, popped him into the trunk of his car, and headed for the basement of Verdant. Thank goodness for billionaires and their toys.


	6. Chapter 6

Stuck in a Box – Chapter Six

**Felicity**

Something woke her up. Had she heard something? She listened, but it seemed quiet again. Shifting slightly she felt her hand brush against the stubble of Oliver's jaw. Her eyes flipped open instantly.

The sight of his head resting against her arm made her breath stop for a second. Unable to quite resist, she moved the hand slightly, rubbing her thumb across his broad shoulder and lacing her pinky finger into the hair at the back of his neck. If he woke up she could always claimed she'd done it in her sleep right? And, unfortunately, she was unlikely to have many chances to sate her curiosity about how he felt.

Distantly she thought she heard a sound. "Oliver," she said quietly, forgetting to move her hand.

She swallowed hard when he turned his face into her hand and murmured, "Felicity?"

His voice was sleepy and content, and she would have spent about a decade thinking about how good that had sounded if there hadn't been another noise, this time much louder. She used her hand to shake his shoulder. "Oliver, I think someone's coming."

He was fully awake and on his feet in an instant. Turning to look at her he leaned his head gesturing toward the bathroom. "Get in there and shut the door," he ordered.

"But…" she started to protest.

"Don't argue with me," he said, in his deadliest voice.

She scrambled to comply, people who argued with that voice tended to get arrowed. In seconds, she was inside the small bathroom, her head against the door listening.

There were more distant sounds, shouting maybe? That was followed by a series of thuds and scrapes. Then silence. She held her breath. What was going on?

A loud boom rocked the room, making the walls shudder. Felicity yelped and ducked, covering her head as mortar dust from between the concrete blocks sifted down. Her ears rang a bit, but she could still hear one important word from beyond the closed door.

"Digg?" Oliver yelled, astonished.

Felicity stood up and threw open the door, just in time to see John Diggle step through the now bent and charred, but blessedly open, door. It took all of her conviction to look like a respectable adult not to run and throw her arms around him.

"You two ready to get out of here?" Digg asked with a grin.

"Definitely," Oliver replied. "Where is here?"

"Interestingly enough you're about ten minutes from home. You're in the basement of an empty mansion," Digg said.

"How did you find us?" Felicity asked, stepping carefully to avoid a few bits of concrete rubble in her bare feet.

"I've got one of your kidnappers in the trunk," Digg said. "Nice guy. Lance helped me track him down…well, he helped the Arrow track him down."

Felicity shot Oliver a look. "Told you that app would come in handy someday."

Oliver ignored her comment but looked closely at her face, and his gaze was intense as he turned to Digg. "That man and I need to have a conversation."

Digg pointed to the door. "After you."

As Oliver stepped through the remains of the door Felicity asked. "What exactly was that about?"

Digg looked at her. "Did you know you've got a respectable bruise on your face? I'd say Oliver's a bit upset about that."

"Oh!" she said, her face had hurt, but she hadn't really thought about it. She didn't know if she was pleased or aggravated to hear that it had so bothered Oliver. Touching her face, she said, "My glasses!"

She walked carefully across the room and put them back on.

"You might also want that shoe," Digg said, pointing to where her one black high heel sat by the bed. "I found the other one."

"Good because these things cost a fortune," Felicity said, unable to keep from smiling as she retrieved the shoe. When she stood up she went over to Digg and put her hand on his arm. "I'm so glad you found us."

Digg's eyes searched over her, and she realized she was still wearing Oliver's jacket. "Yeah, 'cause clearly it's been hell," he said, a note of sarcasm in his voice. "We'd better go, before he decides to start breaking that guy's fingers."

"Right," Felicity said. She took one last look around them, surprised to find herself feeling just a little forlorn. "Time to get back to the world."

**Epilogue**

Sitting in her office, high above the city, the mind behind the abduction of Oliver Queen watched the footage that her men had recovered from the hidden surveillance cameras. Two things surprised her, first that while Oliver was obviously fond of his little blonde, they apparently weren't, in fact, sleeping together, and second that Oliver clearly had no real idea of why he had been taken. The plan had worked flawlessly. John Diggle had followed his breadcrumbs like a good little soldier, and the note left by the "kidnappers" had Oliver thinking he'd bested whomever had stuck him and his assistant in that room. But she hadn't really needed four days for her plan; she'd only needed a single afternoon. Mission accomplished.

* * *

**A/N: I know from the comments some people were expecting a longer story, but I liked the idea of Digg truly coming to the rescue/and the timing misdirection on the part of our mysterious villainess. I do have a clear picture in my head of who that villain is, but I kept it vague because I'm weird about the whole canon-compliant thing. Thanks again for all of the support and kind comments! Hope you enjoyed it. **


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